He drank deep, then barked in pain as an appallingly swift mending gripped his ankle. A moment later it passed. He sagged, suddenly covered in sweat. The others eyed him. ‘For Hood’s sake,’ the sapper panted, ‘don’t drink unless you truly need it.’

Apsalar replaced the ladle.

The door opened at a touch, revealing a night sky and a shambles of a yard. A flagstone path wound its way to an arched gate. The entire grounds were enclosed by a low stone wall. Tenement houses rose beyond, every shutter closed.

‘Well?’ Crokus asked, turning to Fiddler.

‘Aye. Malaz City.’

‘Damned ugly.’

‘Indeed.’

Testing his ankle and finding not a single tremor of pain, Fiddler walked down the path to the arched gate. In the dark pool of its shadow, he looked out onto the street.

No movement. No sound.

‘I don’t like this at all.’

‘Sorcery has touched this city,’ Apsalar pronounced. ‘And I know its taste.’

Fiddler eyes narrowed on her. ‘Claw?’

She nodded.

The sapper swung his pack around to reach beneath the flap. ‘That means close-up scuffles, maybe.’

‘If we’re unlucky.’

He withdrew two sharpers. ‘Yeah.’

‘Where to?’ Crokus whispered.

Damned if I know. ‘Let’s try Smiley’s – it’s a tavern both Kalam and I know well...’

They stepped out from the gate.

A huge shadow unfolded before them, revealing a hulking, ungainly shape.

Apsalar’s hand shot out and stilled Fiddler’s arm even as he prepared to throw. ‘No, wait.’

The demon tilted a long-snouted head their way, regarding them with one silver eye. Then a figure astride its shoulder leaned into view. A youth, stained in old blood, his face a human version of the beast’s.

‘Aptorian,’ Apsalar said in greeting.

The youth’s fanged mouth opened and a rasping voice emerged. ‘You seek Kalam Mekhar.’

‘Yes,’ Apsalar answered.

‘He approaches the keep on the cliff—’

Fiddler started. ‘Mock’s Hold? Why?’

The rider cocked his head. ‘He wishes to see the Empress?’

The sapper spun, eyes straining towards the towering bastion. A dark pennant flapped from the weathervane. ‘Hood take us, she’s here!’

‘We shall guide you,’ the rider said, offering a ghastly smile.

‘Through Shadow – safe from the Claw.’

Apsalar smiled in return. ‘Lead on, then.’

There was no slowing of pace as they rode towards the foot of wide stone stairs leading up the cliff face.

Kalam gripped Minala’s arm. ‘You’d better slow—’

‘Just hold tight,’ she growled. ‘They aren’t so steep.’

They aren’t so steep? Fener’s—

Muscles surged beneath them as the stallion plunged forward. Before the beast’s hooves struck the stones, however, the world shifted into formless grey. The stallion screamed and reared back, but too late. The warren swallowed them.